


Every Wing Takes Flight

by herbailiwick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:33:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>amayakumiko: "If you still want a prompt, can you see Sam watching over Cas as he sleeps? Cause I can. :D"</p><p>pointeblanck: "laundry, boba fett, custard"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Wing Takes Flight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amayakumiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amayakumiko/gifts).



Sam had sat in the corner of the room with a series of interesting Men of Letters files, slowly recovering from the effect of the trials between bowls of Dean's soup and a warm blanket, while Dean and Cas watched episodes of _Dr Sexy, MD_.

Kevin was taking it easy on the angel tablet, after Sam had pointed out that Kevin didn't want to end up looking like Sam.

Crowley was still trying to make himself both scarce and invaluable. He was a big demon, even if he was much less of one than he'd been, though he still let Kevin come with him to the laundromat. Kevin knew a few things about protecting himself from unexpected demons.

"Maybe someone should have gone with them," Sam couldn't help but worrying. But when he saw Dean hold up _Return of the Jedi_ , he couldn't help the look of excitement on his face. 

Although. "Wait a second," Sam said, his smile fading. "Did you two watch the first two without me? When I was on bed rest?"

Cas frowned. "Well, you wouldn't let us fuss over you. So, yes."

Sam nodded slightly. It did make sense. Usually, he didn't get jealous over their time together. How could he? They had a...thing, didn't they? Almost? Close enough, anyway. And who was Sam to want to break that up?

Cas had gotten pretty fussy when Sam had been contained to his bed, and it had made Sam nervous, since he'd already had feelings for the ex-angel. Probably always would, but that was sort of the story of Sam's life.

"If I'd known, Sam, we would have waited," Cas said, tilting his head, and Sam hoped he wasn't blushing. Big shows of sacrifice, he could handle. Things like who got to cool off Sam's forehead or not making Sam sad about Star Wars, those seemed way too intimate, made Sam sound way too important. It didn't matter they were both humans; Cas would always be more beautiful, more important, and just  _above_ stupid things like what Sam cared about.

"You guys watch," Sam said with a nod. "I'm not through this one yet. This person's handwriting was _awful_."

"Perhaps I could help later," Cas suggested. "I still have unusually keen eyesight."

"Uh. Thanks," Sam said. 

Sam did look up when Dean started off into a sidenote about Boba Fett that turned into a bit of a rant and ended up as something resembling the summary of a doctoral thesis. Somewhere between stages two and three, Dean paused the movie for over seven minutes. 

Sam actually counted.

"I'd like to hear Kevin's thoughts about that," Cas said with a squint.

"Kevin ain't here," Dean said. "Don't you trust me?"

"You seem to have a lot of bias. That's all."

"You're a bias," Dean retorted. Cas just squinted again. Sam went back to trying to ignore them.

About halfway through the DVD, Cas said, "I'm finished with this movie."

"Dude! You always do this." Dean's whine was annoying and pathetic, but still somehow charming. How did he do that?

"Sam said it was okay," Cas said, eyes narrowed, looking between the brothers. "Some people can't sit through movies, Dean."

"You _lied_ to him?" Dean demanded.

"What? That's not a lie, Dean," Sam said.

"This man can sit still for days without moving a muscle, but he can't sit through an actual piece of quality entertainment without needing an angel nap?"

"My brain was different," Cas said with a hint of embarrassment. And Dean let it go, just like that.

"Shoot." Dean paused the movie, then hit the stop button. "I'm sorry, Cas."

"It's okay. Are you hungry?" Cas stood.

"Maybe. What's cookin'?"

"I thought I'd try a custard recipe," Cas said slowly, as if daring Dean to laugh.

"Sounds good, Cas." Dean shot him a thumbs up.

"You could assist me, if you want?" Cas suggested. Sam lowered his head slightly as he read his files. It was never about him, and he tried to not take that personally. Cas and Dean just had something special. Everybody liked Dean. Good people, anyway. Demons tended to like Sam.

Sam could hear them laughing and getting on each other's nerves in the kitchen, and he eyed the abandoned DVD lying in the still-open case after Dean had half put it away, sort of feeling like he could relate to it.

He tried to make himself look smaller.

"You're still out here?" Crowley asked. "That's good. Longest you've been up and about in a week."

Sam offered a half smile, then let it fall away.

"What're those two up to?"

"Uh. Custard, I guess." Sam shrugged, and tried not to feel like the least interesting person at the bunker.

"Do you have more quarters? We ran out."

"Yeah, hang on," Sam said. Sam went back to his room to fish for some quarters, curling his large hand around them as he headed back into the living area, only to realize that Crowley's voice had joined Dean and Cas's. Standing in the kitchen doorway, Sam watched for a moment as Crowley tasted the custard, shook his head, and demanded a pen so he could add a few notes to Cas's recipe.

Sam walked in carefully, trying to keep quiet, though two pairs of eyes came and watched him as he set the quarters down with as little noise as possible on the counter. Cas's eyes remained staring at the index cards he'd written his recipe on. Sam chewed at his lip, nodded at Dean and Crowley with an attempt at a smile, and ducked back out of the kitchen.

When Kevin came back, Sam remembered he'd taken the tablet with to read a little while he waited for the laundry.

"It was kind of nice, actually. I liked the change of environment. And there was a woman there who must have been one of the fallen angels, cause I don't think even clueless humans know so little about laundry. I snapped a picture—which is creepy, I know," he shrugged, "but maybe Cas knows her."

By the end of the day, Sam was wondering why he hadn't just stayed in bed. He'd had this picture in his mind that he'd be able to help Cas, and that maybe Cas would magically understand how much he meant to Sam, but it was stupid.

Sam went to bed, realizing he should have had Crowley and Kevin take his sheets for cleaning too, but he hadn't thought about it. "Great," he muttered.

Sam was woken up an hour later by a gentle touch. 

It was Cas. "Uh. Hey, Cas."

"I had a nightmare," Cas said plainly.

"Uh. I'm sorry to hear that," Sam said, flicking the lamp on. "Wanna tell me what it was about?" He patted the bed, and Cas had a seat.

"The Sarlacc." Cas's eyes were so wide and so blue.

"I don't blame you. It may be fictional, but that's still a daunting concept." Sam didn't think he was helping, seeing as Cas's expression stayed more or less the same. "Cas," he said, "I would never let the Sarlacc take you." 

It was one of those things that sounded so stupid in retrospect that Sam actually felt the need to look around for Dean. He meant it, though. He wouldn't let that happen to Cas, ever.

Cas reached out and brushed his fingertips over the ends of Sam's hair. He'd become a lot more tactile since the change. "I know. Would you come watch me sleep?" He fidgeted slightly. He still wasn't all that comfortable sleeping. He didn't like to be so removed from what was happening for so long. He didn't like to dream, and had a hard time telling what was real.

"Of course," Sam said.

Cas waited for Sam to push the blankets off, to get out and remake the bed a little clumsily on the side he slept on. Then Cas led the way, tiptoeing quickly past Dean's open door, and Sam smirked slightly at that fact. Dean wasn't often a calming presence when it came to sleep, especially with how much he still worried about Cas's new-found humanity.

"Nice pajamas," commented Sam.

"I think they're for women," Cas said frankly, "but I don't care."

Yeah, thought Sam as he looked at the little butterflies, they probably were. "Good. Your body, your choice." Cas gave him a strange look.

In the room, Sam went to pull Cas's desk chair near his bed, but Cas said, "If it's alright, perhaps you could hold me."

Sam paused, but continued moving the chair. "We'll get all sweaty," he teased. "You'll like this better. Trust me."

"I may not be a celestial being anymore, but I think I know a thing or two about human signals."

Sam shifted away a bit more as he adjusted the chair. "Oh yeah?"

"I've noticed, you know."

Sam's hands paused. He curled his fingers into the arm and back of the chair. 

"Why are you hiding?"

Sam swallowed. "Cas," he pointed out, "I was in the main room all day."

"A pillbug, sensing danger, might sit out in the open, but he'll still roll up if you approach him."

Sam hesitated before turning around. "I've felt out of place," he admitted.

"You are...you. You have a place here, Sam," Cas said. 

"Um. I...know that."

"We don't want you dead, or gone."

"No, I get that," Sam lied.

"Then...what?"

"I can't cook," Sam confessed in a rush. "The basics, yeah, but not the stuff you try. And I don't know that many facts about movies, not like Dean. So, I mean," he gestured to himself. "This is. Me. And all I can do is...research, anymore. I don't." His voice lowered to a whisper for a statement that he forced out of his chest, where it had sat, heavy. "I don't remember what having fun is like."

Cas closed the space between them quickly, Sam swallowing in nervousness as the arms gulped him up. Cas rested his head against Sam, trusting, warm.

"You've been sick," Cas reminded firmly. "And you've been sad. You're not just what you can do. Trust me, I've lost my powers. Twice. For good, now. Right now, I don't need custard, or Boba Fett. I don't even need laundry."

"You need sleep?" Sam tried, voice shaking.

Cas gripped just a little more tightly, nuzzling Sam. "I need your help. You _understand_ me. Even when I'm not making sense to _myself_. And you've never let me down."

Blinking, Sam found himself settled in next to Cas before he really realized it. He exhaled sharply as Cas pulled the covers up over them.

"You're scared?" Cas shifted to look at Sam. "Did you have a nightmare too? Was it the Sarlacc? No," he paused. "That would be too...normal."

A laugh was forced out of Sam. "Oh, thanks."

"You're scared of what you told me. But, there's something else. Do you...look at me a lot, Sam? I think you do. I'm not an angel anymore, you know."

Sam bit his lip and turned away. "G'night, Cas."

Cas curled an arm around Sam slowly, felt Sam's breath catch. He carefully eased himself behind Sam. "Do you want me to hold you like this?" Cas murmured. "It's bordering on inappropriate, but...," he sighed out a breath against Sam's neck that made him shiver. Ever so slightly, Sam actually pressed back.

"You have a thing with Dean," Sam said, an ache in the tone. "You and Dean have a bond, and all of that. I won't let you cheat," he said, eyes closed tightly, wishing he could curl his arm around Cas's and keep it there, wishing he could do this again with Cas, but it was too wrong.

Cas's chuckle in Sam's ear. Sam shuddered. "Sam. Do you really think I'd be here right now, like this, if Dean and I were together?"

"I don't know," Sam breathed. "God, I don't know, Cas."

Cas kissed the back of Sam's neck, nosing through Sam's long hair. "Your eyes burn through me, at times. Like I'm everything you've ever admired, and they've done that since we met. And it does't make sense. But here I am, a human, and you still think I'm your salvation. Don't you?"

Sam bit his lip, shaking his head slightly. The gesture didn't fool either of them.

Sam felt the cool air at his back as Cas pulled away, and despite his better judgment, whatever he had left of it, he turned over, and he eyed Cas, beseeching. He couldn't ask for the things he wanted. He didn't think they were really there.

"I don't need you to be 'hip' or 'fun', Sam. You have _never_ let me down. I think maybe you need some professional help, though. I don't mean any offense," he added. "You've been through a lot. You're only human.  _I'm_ only human. Your good health is still tentative, of course. But I worry that...your smiles don't stick anymore."

Sam laughed, surprised into doing so again. "What?"

"Your smiles don't stick anymore," Cas said with a hint of irritation.

Sam leaned toward Cas. He hovered above Cas's cheek before Cas said, "Go ahead." Sam gave him a quick, soothing kiss on the cheek. 

"Maybe professional help wouldn't be such a bad thing," Sam confessed. He remembered the two mental hospital stays he'd had. He'd definitely left in a better condition than when he'd arrived. "Maybe it'd help my smiles."

"Your nerves too."

"What about my nerves?"

"They're...lit up. And worn down. And your heart is...fluttery. In fear, not with love. Except," Cas smiled briefly. "Except sometimes, I think it might be. In regards to me."

"Well," admitted Sam, "you're not wrong. In fact, I fell for you way before you fell from grace," he said with a hint of teasing. "But I guess you'll always have wings, to me. I don't think being an angel is what made you special, Cas. Whatever it is, you've still got it." Cas's eyes crinkled at the corners.

Sam swallowed. He cautiously turned onto his back, eyeing the ceiling. Talk about coming on strong.

"What kind of wings?" Cas asked, like the question was very important.

"Insect wings, of course. But, not flimsy little clear ones you have to hide. And probably not those shiny metallic ones. Too gaudy. Maybe butterfly wings. Is that okay?"

Cas giggled. "Um. Yes. I'll accept that."

"Time for bed?" Sam asked with a soft smile that seemed just a little adhesive. It faded by the time Cas curled close. Sam positioned Cas so the two of them were comfortable.

Cas fell asleep fairly quickly after his eyes fluttered closed for the last time, and Sam stayed with him through the night, feeling warm and important, but not like he necessarily had to _prove_ his importance.

And no Sarlacc ever got Cas. Because if Sam believed Cas had wings, Cas would flap them, and get away.


End file.
